Neighbours of Baker Street
by Dark Glass Marionette
Summary: The two sides of the same coin, to each his own.


**Author's Note: **HAPPY NEW 2011, FOLKS! God, another year's over; it's incredible. And I gladly start the year with more GMD fanfiction. This is a piece some of you might kill me for, but I was inspired by a review I got (yes, Brina, I'm looking at you xD), so I thank you with all my heart. I don't know if to consider it a cross-over; for now, I'll put it in the GMD category. Enjoy!^^

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Basil of Baker Street" or Sherlock Holmes; copyright goes to Eve Titus/Arthur Conan Doyle.**

_NOTE: I just love writing in Basil's POV; I can't help it xD  
NOTE #2: It is officially a cross-over. _

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There is one of my adventures I will always remember with special fondness and nostalgia, for I fear it will not happen again. It didn't involve a case, no; in fact, it was during an ordinary day. It was on a cold and windy night of February, 1888; a night and year I will keep extremely close to my heart. Like I told Watson (and he's kept that information well), I had and still have the tendency of sneaking up to 221B to… let's be honest: I fancied spying on Holmes and his performance of his daily chores, comprised by smoking his pipe, resolving a case when he was on one, practicing the violin and some others. He's a man of many habits and all of them, I find fascinating.

That night, right after returning home (I didn't bother to find Dawson), I climbed up to 221B and made my way inside Holmes' residence. It was as neat as always, and I once more laughed at the sight of all his correspondence stuck to his table with a jack-knife. I didn't keep it in such a way, but I have to admit I haven't opened a letter since late January. When I realised where I was, I stayed still and moved not an inch in case Mrs. Hudson was around (isn't it funny how similar Mrs. Hudson and my landlady's name are?). To my luck, such person was absent. The parlour was also empty and, for a moment, I wondered if Holmes was also absent that night.

All of a sudden, Toby came running inside and barked twice as a greeting like he was used to do; I, in return, patted his nose like I used to. With Holmes gone, I was already convinced the evening would be awfully uneventful. But something unexpected happened, and it was this.

I heard somebody clearing their throat behind me. It sounded similar to how I did it, which was enough to leave me frozen in place. Toby trotted past me as I turned. In that corner, sitting cross-legged and stroking Toby's head, was none other than Sherlock Holmes himself. It was the first time in ages I felt truly scared. I'll say this: I remained staring at Holmes like a dupe. I had seen him from afar, watched him pace endlessly in front of his fireplace some times and others sleeping slouched in his armchair, but never from such a close distance. His eyes were as cold as usual, but I noticed some sort of amusement in them.

"Good boy, Toby," Holmes said to the hound as Toby curled up beside him. I took a step back before Holmes snapped his fingers, startling me. "That's much better: no running away."

I didn't know what to do. I was right in front of the greatest detective of the human world, I being the greatest of ours, and I was simply staring! Holmes could easily reach over and catch me if I attempted to escape. Though I knew he wasn't a man of violence, I, like he had just said, was a mouse, by definition inferior to the towering creatures humans were. Toby called my attention with a snort, and I finally reacted. And here, my reader, comes a revelation.

One of my greatest wishes had always been that Holmes noticed me someday. Given the admiration and affection I felt towards him, it had assailed me every time I had climbed up to 221B. We were worlds apart, that much was painfully obvious, but now they were finally starting to intertwine. It was because of that realisation that I dared to step towards Holmes. He was observing me, curious as to what would be my next reaction. As I approached him, I started to feel a bit better and less wary, and Holmes lowered his palm to the floor.

"Up you go, little fellow." I hesitantly climbed onto it and then found myself standing on his knee. "I have seen you more than a few times roaming this place, and you've been lucky to have avoided Mrs. Hudson." I looked away in shame as he spoke: so he had actually spotted me. No matter how cautious I was, in that instant I understood that nothing escaped his eyes. Holmes sighed.

"Isn't it just odd to talk to a mouse?" he wondered out loud, and I chuckled. Of course it was odd, as well as a mouse talking to a human! When he looked down at me, I shook my head. "Tell me then what's odd to you, and be precise."

I shrugged my shoulders. How was I supposed to communicate with him if he didn't understand me? And I wasn't willing to leave until more time had passed. If I could lift up a pen, I would be able to write down what I wanted to say.

"Don't bother," said Holmes before my head ached with all my thinking, "just answer me a few questions as well as you can." As I pulled on a contrite face, Holmes rolled his eyes. "Don't you dare hide what you can do! You're no ordinary mouse, are you now?" I shook my head again. "It figures. Toby has never chased you around the flat, not even once. You've trained him, haven't you?"

A nod of mine was enough to make Holmes pick me up and stand up. "We have more comfortable places where to maintain a conversation, if this can be called one."

"Why wouldn't it be?" I suddenly exclaimed, but I knew my words were mere squeaks to him. At this, Holmes released a hearty laugh. I noticed during my 'flight' that there was a small notebook upon the table and like a madman, I pointed towards it. In silence, Holmes left me next to it and after searching through the mess in his desk, he handed me a pencil the size of his thumb. It was the perfect size for me. All the while I was examining the notebook's sheet's size, Holmes took a seat in his armchair and lit his pipe. The moment I caught sight of it I was tempted to do the same.

It was then that I suddenly noticed the person missing was bound to appear at any moment. With my heart thumping in my chest, I scribbled down my first question to Holmes. _"Where's Watson?"_

"He's away for the night. Don't fret; it's only you and me," Holmes replied without smiling. I sighed in relief, taking solace in his words. "What's the reason behind your visits?"

"_You, Mr. Holmes."_

At this, Holmes was genuinely surprised. "So even in your community I am known?"

I shook my head and wrote, _"Not many know you; only me for now. My name is Basil, by the way, and I am most pleased to meet you."_

"A mouse with manners?" Holmes chuckled, releasing a puff of smoke. "Quite the discovery. And the feeling is shared, Basil. Now, how is it that I am your source of interest?"

I didn't know what to tell him. How would he interpret my feelings for him? From a human's point of view, we didn't have any feelings, only instinct. How could I tell him? I looked away and settled the pencil down. I felt like an imbecile. I had been about to reveal everything to somebody I barely knew yet I felt the most intense of affection towards. Then, I chose to take another way. I took the pencil again and wrote,

"_I am a detective myself; we have that in common. Mr. Holmes, I'm simply interested in what you do and how you do it. I can't explain it any further."_

After reading my response, Holmes slouched in his seat with a very brief smile. "A detective, eh? What kind?"

I chuckled. _"Consulting detective."_

"Basil, a mouse detective… Amusing."

"_Don't blame the opium."_ I wrote with a sly smile of my own. Though I couldn't express myself fully, I knew Holmes understood me perfectly. I can't express here how glad I was back then. _"Mr. Holmes, I have people waiting for me."_

My heart broke right after I wrote that. I wasn't too keen on leaving, but Holmes and I weren't supposed to get along and form a bond. He had his partner, I had mine; he had the people of his world, I had mine. It was natural law.

Holmes let out a long sigh. He didn't blink a single time all the while he was examining me, but I felt as if I had said something unpleasant. "I shouldn't stall you then," he said as he stood. I wrote one last thing down.

"_The game's afoot, sir."_

He looked at me in the eye, and that was enough for me to understand that it was time to take my leave. I jumped down to the chair and then to the carpeted floor before looking up at him again. It was because of merely his size that I realised how different yet how alike we were. I yearned to defy Nature's law and stay there, in the human world, but my place was among my kin and nowhere else.

In silence, I walked to the entrance. I dared not look back for fear of regretting my both my visit and my leave, but I eventually did. Holmes was where I had last seen him, staring intently at me, his pipe in hand.

"The best of lucks to you, Basil. It's good to know I have yet another neighbour and of the strangest of kinds."

A smile lightened my face. It was no farewell like the one I had expected, but it was more than enough. It was because of Holmes' words that I knew I was welcome. I thought about Dawson for a moment, yet this was something I had to keep as my secret. I nodded at Holmes one last time; then, I jumped through the entrance and once more descended to my home.

My visit to Holmes had changed me to the greatest extent; I felt it deep within me. He knew I was a detective like him, and I knew he would deduce more about me out of that simple fact… like he used to do. That thought put another smile on my features.

This is yet another secret I've kept hidden from the world for years. I sincerely regret not having visited Holmes again after that first time, but I know he didn't need my company. Two days after that visit, I found a small note stuck on the entrance to 221B, and it read:

'_**The game's afoot, to each his own. Holmes.'**_

Nothing was more satisfying than that. We were two sides of the same coin.

To each his own.

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_A/N: The end. I am ready to sustain any kind of flame that may come, LOL. Kidding; this is the story I'm most proud of, and what a good way to start the year. Cheers, everyone!^^_

_Reviews are appreciated!^^_


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